


Dead to Rights

by Scrawlix



Category: Deadpool (Comics), Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Shameless Smut, Slow Romance, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-03-20 08:20:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3643272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scrawlix/pseuds/Scrawlix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spider-Man and Deadpool collide together in a series of ridiculous events. SHIELD interferes and there's lots of regret to be had.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was supposed to be working on my other fics but... began channeling my inner Deadpool instead.

Sometimes it took a lot to not cave in to the voices and just start a random un-aliving spree. He had been told most emphatically that if he were to ever give in to that temptation that he would be locked away in a deep dark hole and no-- he wouldn't be allowed tacos. Ever. The merc had shuddered at that horrible thought. What was a life without tacos? 

Deadpool shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he scanned the rooftops with a pair of night vision binoculars. Whistling under his breath, a jaunty tune that had he been paying attention he would have realized was about his prey. It was cold but that didn't bother him. Not much ever did. People had called him psycho for it and very few people understood that it was how he kept his grasp on his last remaining tendril of sanity. He reached into a paper bag at his side without lowering the glasses and pulled out a bean burrito. It had long since gone cold and congealed but he didn't mind. He set aside the NVGs and ate, sitting perched on the edge of a building with his long legs dangling over the side. 

Spiderboy was out there somewhere, flinging his webs and that sexy, sexy body between buildings, obvlious to the real threat that was currently feeling the sharp discomfort of regret-

"From eating too many burritos. The beans were not a good idea." Deadpool grumbled, lifting a buttcheek up from the cold cement to let out a horrendous fart. 

-from eating a congealed mess of beans and beef from a questionable establishment.

"It seemed fine to me." He shrugged.

Finishing the burrito, he tossed the wrapper off the side of the building and resumed his scanning. He was bound to be coming this way, Deadpool reasoned. All of his research and mapping had told him that this was a common avenue that Spider-Man preferred to travel down. He had even speculated that he lived around here but the precise location had alluded the merc. Instead, he had settled himself in for a long wait and had even gone so far as to rent a room in the building so that he didn't have to go far if his search had taken longer than usual. This was the sixth day he had spent all night on the rooftop but he wasn't feeling discouraged. In fact, Deadpool welcomed a little time to chill-

"-Literally-" Deadpool shifted uncomfortably on the cement, feeling the cold ache in his glutes.

-and eat Mexican food to his heart's content. Usually, he would have been twitchy with boredom but it had so far worked out to his favour. He was getting paid an inordinate amount of money to bag the little bastard and it took all of his considerable skills to get this far in his search. He had a good feeling that he would get lucky soon. All he had to do was pay attention and remind himself of all the zeros that would follow the one on the cheque he had been promised. 

"-Canadian spelling. Holla at ya boy-" The merc fist pumped.

Then, there was a flash and Deadpool swivelled to train the NVGs on it. Spiderman was slinging his web as he swung through the air. Tossing the goggles aside, he pulled out the custom made gun and aimed before firing making sure to shoot as the body was unable to change directions to dodge. He watched the netting arch through the air and spread before-

"Aw, shit." Deadpool cursed and reloaded with a grappling hook, firing it and launching himself off the building. Spider-man, suspended from a brick wall by his fingertips and the balls of his feet, watched the large man careen through the air like a carelessly thrown brick to slam into the ledge of the building he was perched on. He spluttered out an incredulous laugh and watched Deadpool dangle there. 

"Deadpool do you know that you are such a dipshit?"

"Sticks and stones may break my bones-" His grip slipped and he fell four stories before landing with a sickening crack on the pavement below, "But gravity--"

Spiderman held up finger, "Gravity- it's not just a good idea. It's a law." He deadpanned.

"I was going to go with 'hurts like a motherfucker." Deadpool walked himself backwards on his hands, straightening out his legs which stuck out at odd angles. 

Dropping down, the smaller man landed with the ease and grace of a cat. He sat crouched on his haunches as he watched with sickening awe as Deadpool's leg bones slid back under his skin and the muscles moved back into shape. "That's fucking gross, man."

"Your face is gross." 

"You gonna be like that?" Spiderman stood and leaned against the building, crossing his arms over his chest, "So why have you decided to bless me with your company, dorkpool?"

Standing, the red and black clad man brushed the dirt off of his rear before answering, "Bounty."

"How much this time?"

"Don't you know its rude to talk about money?"

The younger man cocked his head to the side, "I figured we'd dropped formalities when you tried to shoot me out of the air. I know you've been stalking me. I figured you'd go away after a few days but you seem pretty insistent which means you got a promise of a big pay check-"

"-I don't know what Americans have against the letter Q-"

"Huh?"

"Nothing." Deadpool grinned under his mask, "It is a pretty big cheque and was worth the wait. Plus, there's a decent Mexican joint down the street which makes it all the more worthwhile."  
"Can I ask you not to bother and to spare us both the embarrassment of the ensuing fight? We all know that I whipped your ass last time. I'm pretty sure I can do it again but I've got a test to study for."

The Avengers had come to join the fight when Deadpool's liberal application of seaforium had levelled two buildings in an attempt to capture Spider-Man. If it hadn't been for their intervention, Deadpool would have had the kid dead to rights. This time, he had planned on being more discreet and more patient but that plan was quickly getting old. 

"No, I'm pretty sure I would have had you if it wasn't for Captain Sexypants and the freaky tin man." Despite the fact that Deadpool considered the Avengers his friends, he was in a killing mood and when he was in a killing mood there was no sacrosanctity-

"Blame it on the bad burritos-"

"Huh?"

WIth incredible speed and accuracy, Deadpool fired his pistol from the hip just as he cleared the holster. The first two bullets caught Spider-Man in his left foot and thigh, the third smacked the wall by his head. His leg buckled underneath him and he collapsed. "What the hell did--" Spider-Man looked up in time to catch sight of the butt of Deadpool's weapon come crashing down on his head and the lights went out.

"Sorry kid." Deadpool muttered, pulling a tightly folded canvas bag from one of the larger compartments on his belt and stuffing the unconscious body in. He hoisted the sack over his shoulder and trudged back to his apartment. 

Deadpool tied Spiderman from elbow to wrist in thick, heavy rope and used duct tape to bind his hands despite pulling off his gloves and removing his web slingers. He hoisted him by ropes wrapped around his chest onto a hook where he dangled uselessly. 

Settling in to a worn recliner to chow down on the remaining burritos that he had taken the time to retrieve from the building's roof, Deadpool waited for a response to the email he had sent out to his employers. He hummed happily to himself between bites and watched the other man as he slowly regained consciousness.

"Wha… what…?" Spiderman mumbled, his head lolled as the tranquilizers wore off.

"I shot you with tranqs. They'll wear off soon, I suspect." Deadpool spoke, "Don't bother trying to escape. I'll just shoot you again and I don't really want to do that. Those bullets are expensive."

"Lemme go." Despite the warnings, the younger man struggled uselessly but immediately stopped as Deadpool pulled out his weapon and balanced it on his knee. "Dammit, Deadpool. This isn't funny." He whined.

"From where I'm sitting, puddin' pop, it's downright hilarious." Despite his words, the merc didn't laugh. He checked his phone again. "You'll stay like that until my employers come and pick you up."  
A van pulled up in front of the building, four men got out with automatic weapons. "Hmmm…" Deadpool frowned and cleared the chamber of his glock before replacing the clip of tranquilizer bullets with hollowpoints. "My spidey-sense is tingling…" He muttered before standing and procuring a SIG MPX from under the chair and hanging it on a nail by its sling near the door. Pulling a sword from its sheath on his back, he sliced the rope that held Spiderman and dragged him into the bathroom, dumping him in the tub. "Don't move." He said before closing the door.

He had been mildly suspicious when he had received the bounty request. It had been a lot of money and that niggling voice in the back of his head said it was almost too good to be true--

"Yeah, yeah… quit bragging…" Deadpool waved a dismissive hand in the air.

-but he had gone with it anyways. If he had been truthful, it was the idea of getting to hunt down the elusive Spiderman that far outweighed the prospect of being betrayed.

He checked the magazines in the various handguns he had on his person as he listened to the heavy trampling of men running up the stairs. Opening the door, he popped his head out in time to see the first man drop to his knee and fire a shot at him. He caught the bullet in his shoulder and grunted as the impact threw him off balance. With little effort, Deadpool gunned the man down and stepped back inside before slamming the door. He swore loudly, a litany of curses that would have made a sailor blush before pulling out a knife and prying the bullet out. 

"Give us Spider-man and we'll let you go." A voice called from the hallway.

"I want my money and then you can have him."

"How about we let you live."

"How about you go fuck yourselves." Deadpool snarled, hefting the submachine gun and flinging the door open. He sprayed the hallway with bullets causing the soldiers to scatter like pigeons. Ducking back into the room, he ran to the bathroom door and kicked it in. Spiderman still lay prone in the tub, squirming to get out of his restraints. The merc pulled a knife and sliced the ropes, Spiderman ripped away the duct tape. Deadpool tossed his gloves and web slingers at him, "Get out of here, kid." He snapped but before he could run back to the hallway, Spiderman's fist caught him in the jaw. The power of the hit caused him to stagger backwards and land on his ass. He didn't bother to listen to the kid's threats, concerned with keeping the gun-toting men out of the room so Spider-Man could escape. 

He emptied the remainder of the clip into the chest of an approaching soldier. He dived to catch the body, using it as a shield as the remaining two shot at him. Dropping the body and the SIG MPX, Deadpool pulled out his holstered handguns and shot as he ran forward, not stopping as bullets caught his side. When the two remaining soldier dropped and gasped their last, he leaned heavily against the wall and slid down, feeling his lungs fill with fluid. The man pulled off his mask which was thick with blood. He spluttered, blood coating his tongue and hanging in ropes off of his chin. 

"Holy shit." Spiderman cried, kneeling beside Deadpool. 

"It's nothing a hug can't fix." Deadpool gasped, cradling his ribs and sliding down to lie prone on the floor. He got his hands underneath him and pushed up, struggling to get to his feet. An arm wrapped around his waist, Deadpool slung an arm around Spiderman's scrawny shoulders as he shot him a smile. "Thanks." He was dragged into the apartment and dumped on his recliner. 

Deadpool could feel the foreign bits of metal move inside his body. His innards rearranged themselves. Leaning over, he vomited blood and bile on the floor; this was followed by the rattle of bullets he could purge through his stomach. In the distance he heard the wails of approaching police cars. "Dammit. I need to get out of here." He muttered, getting to his feet slowly. 

"Seriously?" Spider-man croaked, the first words he had uttered since witnessing the carnage in the hallway and the ensuing gore of Deadpool's healing factors kicking into overdrive. 

"Get my guns. I left them in the hallway. The po-po will take em and that machine gun is my favourite." Deadpool rasped, his voice rough from vomiting. He grabbed a takeout cup of warm fountain pop from the rickety table by the recliner and chugged it down. Spiderman came back in carrying the discarded weapons like he was carrying roadkill. He grimaced beneath his mask as he handed them over to the other man. "Movies make it seem like guns grow on trees but good guns are fucking expensive." He checked the safety on the weapons as he holstered them.

"That's… uh… good to know…" Spiderman hoped that he would never need to use one. "So are you good to go?" 

"Bit dizzy from the blood loss." He mumbled, rubbing his head as his vision swam. Feeling the other man's concern radiating from every line on his lithe body, Deadpool looked up and smiled reassuringly, "I'll figure it out. Get out of here and I'll catch you on the flipside."

Spider-man had one foot on the windowsill when he glanced back at the merc. Deadpool was weaving unsteadily on his feet. He cursed silently and stepped down, "Come on. I'll get us out of here but after that, you're on your own." 

"You gonna give me a piggyback ride?" Deadpool leered. 

"Don't make me regret it." The other growled as he turned his back on the man.

Deadpool forgot how strong the kid was. He weighed 210lbs and add another twenty for all the gear he hauled around but Spider-Man handled him like he was nothing. At some point, he blacked out because he woke up just as he was being gently lowered onto a mattress. It was a lean- to on the roof of a warehouse, Deadpool realized. He groaned and sat up, his head throbbing. 

"There's bottles of water and granola bars underneath the mattress. I come here sometimes to think." Spiderman offered.

"Thanks, kid."

"Did you know that was going to happen? That they were going to betray you like that?" He asked, sitting on his haunches. 

"I suspected as much."

"Then why did you go through the trouble of tracking me down?" Spiderman fidgeted. 

Offering him a one shouldered shrug, Deadpool didn't bother with a verbal response. He didn't dare entertain the idea that he considered the young man a friend only to be rebuffed as he was by everyone else. He looked out over the cityscape, letting his thoughts meander. Truth be told, he had been so bored and restless as of late that he had welcomed the challenge. With the discovery of his daughter and the departure of Preston from his noodle, he was lonely. It was never good when Deadpool was left to his own devices-

"-Weapons of mass destruction."

"Who are you talking to? What about weapons of mass destruction?"

He waved a dismissive hand, "Nothing. Just forget it." 

Spiderman was torn between wanting to leave and wanting to stay. He sat back on his rear and cross his long legs to stare intently at the other man. "So are you going to try to capture me again or are we good?"

Giving him a lecherous, toothy smile, Deadpool answered, "We'll have to see. I might want to have my dirty way with you."

"Uh. Inapprops, dude." But to his chagrin, Spider-Man found himself oddly flattered. Deadpool had never been overtly sexual before. At least not to him. 

"You jailbait?"

 

"No… I'm old enough to-"

"-Have sex with psychotic strange men?"

"Well, certainly but I'm not that desperate." He watched the man suspiciously.

Hands reached out and wrapped around the smaller man's ankles. With little effort, Deadpool dragged him over until Spider-Man was almost straddling his waist. "What if I am?" He growled.  
"What are you doing?" 

"Being inappropriate." Deadpool grinned, leaning in to nip his lean shoulder.

In an instant Spider-Man was on his feet and stepping out of arm's length. "Alrighty. Well, you have fun with that." His voice was high with anxiety and discomfort. He wanted as far away from this weird man as he could get. 

"It's better if there's someone else to do it with me." The other man offered, watching with glee as Spiderman beat a hasty retreat across the rooftop. 

 

The morning after, Peter rolled out of bed and sat with his elbows on his knees. He rubbed his head, halfheartedly trying to pat down his wild case of bedhead. His mind went back to the crazy night he had had. Being abducted by Deadpool and subsequently rescued by him, then being hit on by said merc. His whimsy was mercurial to say the least which had made him annoying, endearing and deadly in equal doses. It had made him panicky to be the subject of his attention not knowing if one minute he was going to have his throat slit or his brains fucked out by the same person. 

He touched his shoulder wear Deadpool had bit him. It hadn't bruised. It hadn't even hurt, really, but the memory of it was vivid and colored his thoughts. He bit his lip as he thought about it. Deadpool was widely considered a nuisance amongst the super community. There had been much eye rolling and teeth sucking when any of the Avengers had been forced to work with him. Even Captain America had felt that way about him most times. 

Dressing slowly and trudging downstairs to the smell of bacon and coffee. His aunt was puttering happily in the kitchen and had set a plate of toast, eggs and bacon in front of him. He answered her normal questions monosyllabically between bites as he wrestled with his thoughts on the merc. 

"Peter? Have you been listening to anything I've been saying?" Aunt May asked, smiling patiently at Peter.

"I'm sorry Aunt May. I have a lot on my mind." He took a deep drink of his coffee, almost emptying it in two gulps. "I better get going. I'm going to be late."

"Okay. Well, you be careful. I don't want you to walk into traffic because you are too distracted to pay attention to where your feet are going."

He stood and gave his aunt a kiss on the cheek before putting his dishes in the sink. "I love you, Aunt May. I'll see you later."

"I won't be here when you get in. I'm going out with some of the ladies from the club, okay? There will be food there for you to heat up when you get hungry."  
He shouldered his backpack and gave his aunt a dazzling smile, "Okay. You ladies have fun, then. And behave- I don't have the money for bail." 

Peter opened the door and stood staring up into the scarred face of Deadpool. "What the hell?" He hissed, feeling sick to his stomach at the appearance of the merc. He was thankfully not dressed in his normal merc gear but in old chucks, faded jeans and a stained hoodie. Underneath the hood he wore a ballcap pulled low on his head, the bill effectively covering his scarred face

"Surprise tacos!" Deadpool wagged the bag in front of Peter's pale face. 

"What the hell? How the hell did you find out where I lived?" The younger man bit out between gritted teeth. 

"I slipped a tracker in your boot." He had checked himself thoroughly for trackers in the bathroom while Deadpool had been fighting. There had been nothing, absolutely no tracker. Sensing what he was thinking, he added, "On the roof."

His stomach plummeted. He had been so distracted that he hadn't bothered to check. He had been so preoccupied with being completely freaked out by Deadpool's flirting that he hadn't thought to check. "You hit on me to slip a tracker on me?" Strangely, inexplicably, he felt disappointed. 

"Two birds, one stone. I got to grope you and figure out where your spidey-hole was." He smirked.

"If you think that this gives you leverage, you are out of your fucking mind--"

Lifting the bag of food up defensively, Deadpool said, "No. No leverage. Just food between friends. I've no interest in hurting you."

"You did last night." He pushed passed him.

Deadpool caught up, keeping pace easily, "Listen, let's put that behind us! Let bygones be long gone. Or whatever. I brought tacos. As an apology for y'know… trying to sell you to people who were clearly less than reputable."

"Seriously, Deadpool-"

"Wade."

"-huh?"

"My name. It's Wade. Wade Wilson." He opened the bag and took out a taco, eating happily as he walked beside the infuriated shorter man.

"We're not on a first name basis." Peter hissed.

"You want me to call you Sp--"

"Shut it!" Peter whirled on him abruptly. 

"Have a taco. They are made with joy and forgiveness." He wagged the bag under Peter's nose, the smell of spiced meat tantalizing. 

"I'm not getting rid of you anytime soon, am I?"

"Probably not. I'm like herpes. I just crop up and make your genitals burn when you least expect it."

"Gross." Peter took a taco out of the bag and ate slowly as they resumed their walk. The taco was actually really good and much to his chagrin, he found himself fishing through the paper bag for another. "These are good."

Wade tossed the empty bag of greasy wrappers into a nearby garbage bin. "So where are we going?"

 

"I'm going to class."

"Oh." They walked along in awkward silence before Peter cleared his voice and spoke, "I could skip it, though. Do you have something in mind?"

"Another piggy back ride?" Wade asked a little too eagerly.

"Not gonna happen."

"Oh." He looked crestfallen and it made Peter smile fondly. "Well, how about a drink to wash down the forgiveness tacos."

"Sounds good."

Wade stopped in front of a particularly dank looking building, the only telltale sign that it was a bar was the neon budweiser sign that could be seen through the small barred window. "You are old enough to drink, aren't you?" The man squinted at Peter suspiciously.

He let out an exasperated sigh, "Yes, I am old enough to drink, Wade."

"Okay. Cuz I know a guy who knows a guy who might be able to get you a fake ID. In case, y'know, you need it for completely legal reasons."

"What legal reason would there be to own a fake ID?"

"I don't know, Nancy Drew." Wade opened the door and let Peter walk by, "use your imagination."

They sat at a booth in the corner of the dingy room after ordering warm beer from a surly looking bartender. "So. Tell me your origin story, Peter Parker."

"Origin story-" Peter took a cautionary sip of beer before answering, "bit by a radioactive spider. Great powers, great responsibilities. That kind of stuff."

"Me too. Only no spiders. Or responsibilities." He tilted his head as if a thought suddenly occurred to him, "Except for now. Now I guess I do have responsibilities. I have a kid."

He almost spat out his beer in shock. Spluttering, Peter wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "Seriously?"

"The ladies love me!"

"It's not that… it's just…"

"You think cuz I look like a walking open sore that I don't have sexy time?"

"No-no- stop trying to finish my sentences." Peter groused, "I meant, I thought you were gay."

Wade blinked, "Oh. Well, I guess you might think that." He took a swig of his beer, "but no. I'm not gay. I just am not picky."

"Oh that's flattering." Peter shot him a frown. 

"No, no- not like that. You have a nice bum. Jumping around in your sexy spandex makes me wanna lick you like a lollypop." The merc grinned lecherously as Peter spluttered again, "I just like what I like. Fans dig their slash fan fiction."

"Slash… what?" He had heard that term being thrown around before. Tony had mentioned it in his presence once when he was talking to Steve. It sounded frightening by the way both men had been arguing over it. He had never seen Captain America look so… hunted...

"Never mind." He took another drink from his beer before belching loudly, "Have you had sex before, Peter?"

"Yes!" Peter snapped, "I'm not that young, I've done things and--"

"Don't get your panties in a wad. You look like you're fourteen and I don't want to feel like I'm deflowering Lolita-"

"Who said anything about deflowering?!" Peter was almost dizzy with hysterics. "Don't you think you're getting ahead of yourself?"  
Wade shrugged, "Just sayin'. It's gonna happen. I just don't want to feel like a dirty pedo when it does."

"Okay, well, on that note…" Peter was mildly amused and exasperated. Wade was truly one of the most infuriating individuals he had ever known and truthfully, he hadn't known him that long to realize this. "Do you say this stuff to get a rise out of people or do you genuinely mean what you say?" He blurted.

"A little bit of both." Wade shrugged and had the gall to look slightly uncomfortable, "I can't help myself. Whatever I think just comes out."

They talked for hours. One beer turned into two which turned into four which turned into- well, truthfully, Wade lost count and didn't really care. He enjoyed listening to Peter talk as he became more and more inebriated. It wasn't until Peter pulled out his cell which had been vibrating nonstop for the past half hour that he realized they had spent more than twelve hours in their dingy booth. The place had filled up with patrons that looked just as worn down as the decor but that had gone unnoticed. Peter, who had always taken pride in his ability to notice everything at once, hadn't really been paying attention at all. 

"It's late. I better get going." Peter said sounding genuinely apologetic. He staggered to his feet, leaning heavily on the table. 

Wade followed him out of the bar and into the street where night had fallen and along with it, the threat of frost. Peter shivered a little and stuffed his hands inside his pockets. He was surprised when Wade draped his sweater over his shivering shoulders, "It's too cold for you to be in a t-shirt, Wade."

"S'fine." He grinned and walked beside him, occasionally bumping arms as they walked. They walked home in relative silence. Wade occasionally burst into song which amused Peter to the point where he found himself joining in. 

They arrived at the house and Peter fumbled with his keys a few times before finally unlocking the door. "I'm so hungry." Peter grumbled, dropping his book bag in the middle of the floor for Wade to stumble over as he made his way to the fridge. He pulled out the leftovers and crowed in delight as he showed the contents to Wade. "NACHOS!"

"Wuzzat?" He peered at the contents of the container. It was rice and ground beef but smelled faintly familiar. 

"Taco meat and rice. You eat it with cheese and sour cream with-with" He fished a bag of plain tostitos out of a cupboard and thrust them in Wade's arms. "Prepare to have your mind blown." He said happily as he threw the container in the microwave. 

Wade capered around the kitchen munching noisily on tostitos despite Peter's warnings not to eat them all. With a relish of a spoon, Peter had added sour cream and cheese to the concoction which was quickly starting to smell irresistible to the taco-fiend. Quick reflexes allowed Peter to nab the bag from his drunk friend and scoop up some of the meat and rice. He shoved it into Wade's mouth, yelping when teeth nipped his fingers. 

"Oh my sweet baby Jesus!" Wade mumbled between mouthfuls of nachos. They made it to the couch with their big container of food and ate in a quiet, drunken frenzy as Peter flipped through the channels to land on an old Buster Keaton movie that had them both laughing. They didn't speak until the food was gone. "Can I live here and have Aunt May feed me that nacho stuff? I think that'd be my idea of heaven." Wade patted his clearly distended stomach and sighed happily.

"Yeah, my aunt is the best." Peter leaned his back against Wade and didn't complain as one heavily muscled arm wrapped around his body and rested against his chest. 

When Peter woke it was to the pain of a nagging headache. He moaned and pulled the blanket over his head, trying to remember how he had gotten here. He remembered drinking with Wade- Deadpool- all day. Eating Nachos with him and watching movies. And… cuddling? He frowned. That couldn't be right. Or could it? Pulling the blanket down, he looked around and realized that he was in his own room. Peter sat up slowly, trying to keep the room from swaying anymore than it already was. He groaned and held his head. 

There was a note on his bedside table. It took him a considerable amount of effort to grab it and read; "Was fun. Lets do it again, sometime. -WWAKADP" He squinted at the note as his foggy brain tried to process the message. Instead of thinking any further, he pulled off his shirt and jeans and crawled back under the covers. He'd deal with Deadpool when his head stopped pounding.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Oh my god." He pressed a gloved hand to his forehead, "Are you kidding me? Fucking SHIELD even in my damn sex life. I wonder if I have to wait to get my sexual partner issued to me." Peter wondered aloud, "I wonder what they'd do if we were to…" He blushed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like a zombie... I haven't slept all night. My muse is a slave driver. 
> 
> A note on the timeline: I'm not incredibly up to date on Spider-verse. I can't really tell you where this sits in the whole timeline but I'm hoping that I am being vague enough that those who do know the spider-verse won't hate me too much for my egregious ignorance. 
> 
> Warning: Sexy wexy times ahead. But before that- violence.

He was pinned against the wall by a pipe through his abdomen. Despite that minor inconvenience, it didn't stop him from wreaking havoc. He pulled a homemade explosive device from a large pouch at his side and tossed it as he pushed himself off the wall. The blast ripped through the alleyway and the resulting concussion knocked him off his feet and sent him somersaulting through the air with a "-Weeeeee!"

A web wrapped around his leg and caught him midair before his brains were about to be dashed on a brick wall. He hung there for a moment and assessed the situation, realizing that his target was still up. Lifting the glock, he squeezed off a shot which caught the man in the side of the head. The spray of brains made Deadpool grin and say, "No time to lose your head."

"Deadpool. Seriously?" Spider-Man squeaked, watching the dead body drop to his knees before resting in a puddle of blood. 

"What?" He asked innocently, dangling by one foot. "He killed my informant."

"And that makes it better?"

"Who cares?" Deadpool asked, pulling a knife and cutting himself free of the web wrapped around his boot. He landed heavily on his back, his head bouncing off the pavement. Rolling on to his side, he groaned and tried to blink back a wave of nausea. "Fuck me."

Spider-Man dropped from his perch on a metal fire escape and looked around at the carnage. He clutched his stomach, trying to keep from throwing up. "What is wrong with you?" He asked, his words accusatory. 

Deadpool smiled sadly behind his mask. "Oh kid, there isn't enough time for me to answer that question."

"You know that what you have done is murder, right?"

 

"Better them than me." He spoke as he stood and brushed debris from his back. "These guys didn't deserve to live. They were dirty, murdering, drug dealin' assholes."

"And that's different than what you are?"

 

"I didn't say anything about me, kid." Deadpool set a boot on the mangled chest of what used to be a man and grabbed the handle of his sword. The blade slide free of his skull with a sickening squelch. "I'm just as bad as these assholes. Only difference is, I don't have the sense to stay dead." 

Spider-Man watched silently as Deadpool cleaned his weapon. "Can't you just stop killing people?"

Sliding the sword back in the sheath strapped to his back, Deadpool barked a laugh. "It's like Lays chips- you can't have just one."

"It's like a compulsion?"

"For me? Sort of." Deadpool ejected the empty clip into the palm of his hand from a handgun he had tucked into the waistband of his pants. He fished out a new magazine and slid it home, clicking the safety on and holstering it. "You here to give me a lecture on morality and the sanctity of life?"

"I take it it is a lecture you've heard before."

"In buckets."

Shifting his weight from foot to foot, Spider-Man tried to remember why exactly he had stopped to talk to Deadpool for. It took him a moment and he turned his back to face the wall as the other man pried a knife out of the eye socket of another unfortunate body. He pressed his sweating forehead against the wall, trying to erase the scene that kept creeping into his thoughts. Suddenly, his entire body was pressed into the wall, a hand on the back of his head held him there. Struggling to push back but failing, Spider-Man twisted to elbow Deadpool. "What the fuck, Deadpool?" He hissed, his fighting intensifying.

"Pretty boy want to play?" The merc growled in his ear.

"Don't flatter yourself." Spider-man bit out. 

Deadpool ground his hips into the smaller man's rear and he felt the rigid flesh of his erection. Stilling, Spider-man fought to control the urge to push back. "Don't worry, baby-boy. I don't do rape." The words seemed to have been dragged up from his chest, each word a growled promise.

He staggered when Deadpool released him and before speaking another word, shot up the wall and out of his reach. "Don't ever do that again."

Deadpool's demeanor changed. He smiled sweetly up at the young man, having removed his mask to ring it dry of blood. "Only if you ask me to."

Peter had momentarily forgotten briefly who Wade Wilson was. He had forgotten that despite their recent history of comradeship, the man was unstable at best. Despite his goofy demeanor, he was deadly. He crept further up the wall, ignoring Deadpool's catcalls as he worked to get distance between them. He wanted to go home and take a shower and forget about the people that Deadpool had turned into piles of meat and bone. 

"Well, way to traumatize the kid, Wade." A caustic voice called from the shadows. 

He didn't have to turn to know that Black Widow was leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. Her red hair tumbled around her face, framing her perfect smile and cat-like eyes. She pushed off the wall and stepped around the lower half of a corpse, unperturbed by the level of gore. "You got the disks?"

"Of course." He scoffed, pulling the disks out of a pouch to toss at the woman. "I better get paid for this." 

"You know you will." 

"I better get paid what SHIELD promised me or I swear I'll lodge a complaint with HR."

She chuckled, "Sure, Wade." Pulling out a gun, she placed it calmly between his eyebrows. "Remember this- if I see you near that kid again, getting paid will be the least of your problems."

He leaned into the gun, grinning madly, "Oh?"

"With the full blessings of SHIELD- and you know how creative they are at making peoples' lives a living hell, Wade. I'd wager a guess that they are even better at it than you are." The gun went back into the concealed confines of her jacket. She patted his cheek roughly. "I mean it, Wade."

His grin grew toothy, "Oh I know you do."

Without a word, she turned and walked down the alleyway and got into an awaiting non-descript suburban SUV that SHIELD loved so much and drove off.

Deadpool pulled his mask back on while contemplating Black Widow's threats. He didn't really want to get on their radar. He had been at one point and perhaps he was kidding himself if he thought that he had ever gotten off of it. Unfortunately, Deadpool was not one to give up or be deterred by threats. In fact, most times, it only encouraged him. He wondered if what Black Widow said a calculated move with his nature in mind or some misguided attempt to cow him. 

"Cows." He said with a shudder.

 

Peter dropped to his feet from the window sill. His bedroom was dark and just the same as it was when he left. Somehow, despite this comfort, it did nothing to curtail the uneasy feeling in his stomach. The light flicked on and he jumped, hanging from the ceiling by his fingertips and toes. 

"Fuck, Deadpool." He hissed, just as angry with himself for being jumpy than at the man who intruded on his privacy. "You can't just come and go whenever you want!" Actually, this was the first time that he had done just that. It had been weeks since he had shown up on his doorstep and they had gotten drunk together and Peter had not heard a thing from the man. 

"I wanted to finish our conversation."

"What conversation?" He asked, confused, "We were having a conversation? As I recall, you were killing people and that, as far as I'm concerned, is a mood killer."

Deadpool flopped on Peter's bed, his long legs crossed at the ankles and his hands lacing behind his head. He hooked his mask up over his nose and stared up at Peter for a long while with a smug look on his face. "Come on, Spidey. It's a surprise to you that I kill people? That's not something I've ever made an effort to hide."

"Obviously." 

"Come down here and sit on your uncle Deadpool's lap. We'll talk about the first thing that pops up." His non existent eyebrows wiggled suggestively. 

"You are a disgusting pervert."

"Yeah? So?"

Peter found himself chuckling at the hopeful look on Deadpool's ruined face. "You know, I could just launch you out a window, stick you to a wall and call SHIELD to come pick you up."

"So you got the talk too, huh?"

"What talk?"

"Nothing." He waved a hand, "It's nothing. Obviously, I was wrong."

Peter dropped to the floor and pulled his mask off. He patted his wild hair down and sat on the edge of the bed, out of Wade's grasp. "Someone talked to you…"

"I got the safe sex talk from SHIELD."

Peter blushed, "What... ? What was that like?" 

"It entailed a gun pressed against my head by Black Widow and her saying, 'Don't touch that sweet, innocent baby-boy.'" He grinned.

"Oh my god." He pressed a gloved hand to his forehead, "Are you kidding me? Fucking SHIELD even in my damn sex life. I wonder if I have to wait to get my sexual partner issued to me." Peter wondered aloud, "I wonder what they'd do if we were to…" He blushed.

"Oh so now you're thinking about it." Wade sat up, scooting closer to the younger man. 

"I can wonder but it still isn't going to happen." He eyed Wade. "Like ever. In no known alternate universe are we ever, ever going to happen."

Wade leaned in, running his hands through Peter's wild hair. "Why not?" He felt him still and was encouraged, drawing an arm around his waist to pull him into his lap. Peter straddled his legs in one lithe movement. "The lady doth protest too much, methinks." The Merc quoted.

It had been so long since Peter had done something like this. Certainly it hadn't been his first time but that didn't make it any easier. He didn't like being vulnerable and sex was an incredibly vulnerable act. Regardless, he felt like it had been so long - perhaps he just needed it to take the edge off… 

"Shut up, Wade." He growled before pressing his lips to Wade's scarred ones. Peter was pinned to the bed by his big, muscled body in a quick move as their kisses grew hot and frantic. "Don't make me regret this." Peter murmured. 

Wade smelled like blood and gunpowder. With the knowledge of what he had done earlier that night, it should have repulsed Peter but it only compelled him further. Knowing that SHIELD was breathing down their necks and that this was wrong on so many levels, it did nothing to abate the need building in his body. Even as the klaxon went off in his head, Peter found himself staring at the ceiling and breathing heavily as hands slid past the lycra waist of his costume to wrap around his rapidly growing erection. He arched his back and rocked his hips into the touch as Wade's grip tightened. 

Peter managed to fumble clumsily with the weapons harness that hugged Wade's chest, he pushed it off and it clattered to the floor noisily- swords and all. His fingers were shaking as he tried to get Wade's belt off, craving the touch of flesh on flesh. 

There was suddenly a knock at the door and Peter's eyes grew wide and round, panic piercing the fog of lust. "Peter, are you okay?" Aunt May's voice called from the hallway.

"Yes, Aunt May." Wade chose that time to drag his mouth down the length of Peter's neck, eliciting a small moan from the man. He bit down at the junction where Peter's shoulder met his neck before sucking hard. "I'm-I just. I just dropped my books. It's nothing, really."

"Okay, well please be careful. I'm going to bed, okay?"

"Good night!" He squeaked as the hand around his cock began to move up its length, the pad of his thumb dragging over the glans. "Oh god." Peter muttered into the crook of his neck, biting down on the inside of his lip. 

Peter felt like a raw nerve constantly being plucked by expert hands. Despite the clumsy, fumbling sex in his teenage years, Peter felt out of his depths. It was a feeling he always resigned himself to but when it came to this, came to sex, it chaffed. His resentment did nothing to curb the giddy nervousness that threatened to escape in very unsexy giggles from the younger man's lips. 

"Keep giggling, Petey, and I'm going to fuck you into next week." Wade growled.

The giggles, which he was sure he had had a good hold on, seemed to transform and burst out of his mouth in peals of laughter. The absurdity of what he was doing had short circuited his brain, Peter figured. "I-okay. I-it's just- I-" The words were stolen from his mouth by Wade's. Their lips parted and tongues met in a hot, velvety clash. Giddy arousal gave way to passion and the carefully maintained grip that Peter held on his incredible strength slipped. He gripped Wade's waist and flung him onto his back before straddling his hips. The suit was beginning to become a real problem that seemed to worry at his overly sensitive skin. He yanked off the top and threw it carelessly over his shoulder. 

He should have cared that he was getting naked while Wade was fully dressed. He should have cared that this was happening at all after assuring himself and Wade that it never would. But he was beyond caring and fast approaching careless abandon as hands ran over his torso. Thumbs dug into his hip bones as he moved, the cleft of his ass cradling Wade's erection. He looked down at the man as he moved slightly, watching through heavily hooded eyes as Wade tried to maintain control on himself. His tongue darted out, catching his bottom lip. That simple, seemingly innocent gesture made Wade growl again and the grip on Peter's hips tighten. 

Peter leaned in, hands on either side of Deadpool's head as a gloved hand deftly shoved his pants down as far as they would go without making him stand. The idea of slicing the fabric away occurred but he remembered his knives had gone along with the webbing that lay on the floor. A hand gripped Wade's jaw, gloved fingers digging into his cheeks. "Stay with me, Wade." Peter murmured. 

Wade removed the glove from his right hand with his teeth and reached up, pushing his finger into the other's mouth. He groaned softly as his tongue skillfully laved at his fingers. "The things I'm gonna do to you…" He whispered roughly, pulling his fingers away from his mouth. Wade pushed one spit slick finger into his entrance and watched the blush spread on the younger man's face. Muscles spasmed and gently gave way, letting one long finger slide into Peter's ass. They stayed that way for what seemed like an eternity to Peter as he fought the warring emotions- dismay, embarrassment, and eagerness that left him breathless. 

His hands were fumbling once more with Wade's belt, pushing his pants down to reveal his straining erection. He gritted his teeth, impatient and resigned to find an end to the almost painful need that wracked his compact frame. Their mouths crashed together this time in a painful kiss that was mostly teeth than tongues. The familiar coppery taste coated Peter's tongue but the pain of the deep bite on his bottom lip, the source of the blood, only added to the frenzy. 

He heard the sound of fabric tearing, only barely registering the fact that Wade had torn the pants of Peter's costume away. 

"No." Peter all but snarled as Wade tried to move to pin him again. He grabbed his face and pushed him back on the bed with a strength that surprised the older man. Pushing his hips upwards, his erection cradled between Peter's taut cheeks and moaned brokenly. "If you don't fucking do something about this soon, Spidey…" His hands tightened on Peter's narrow hips as a warning. 

Twisting his torso, Peter's gloved hand released Wade's face and pointed at the messy desk in the corner. With an accuracy that surprised himself, his web shot out and hit the bottle of petroleum jelly he had sitting on his desk. He jerked his arm and the bottle flew across the room before being caught easily. Scooping some out, he smeared it on Wade's cock before positioning himself above it. "Oh fuck me." Wade ground out, watching as Peter perched above him. 

"On it." Peter managed to grin at the man before his eyes slipped closed and his head tilted back. He gently lowered himself, relaxing his body to accept the head of Wade's cock. He breathed in deeply and as he did, slid down the length of his slick shaft. Frowning with concentration, he let the sounds of Wade's ragged breathing roll over him. 

His knees wide to keep his view unobstructed as he balanced himself on the balls of his feet, Peter rocked gently and felt the spasm of pain-pleasure ricochet up his spine. With one hand to steady himself on Wade's abdomen, the other grasped the base of his own erection, he began to move more frequently. The fluidity of his movements was natural and quick, he rode Wade with a growing ruthlessness. Peter's hand pumped quickly, moving up and down his cock as he slammed himself down on Wade. He gritted his teeth as his orgasm hit him with enough force to bow his back. As his body tensed, he collapsed on to the bed and felt Wade move on top of him. Biting down on his own forearm, he felt Wade fill him again. His hips moved in strong strokes, slamming into his prostate. With one final, powerful thrust, Wade came in a ragged groan. He wavered before collapsing beside Peter's prone, naked body. 

"That… was amazing." Peter said between gasping breaths. 

"You weren't so bad yourself." Wade smirked, slapping a buttock before grabbing it. 

He laughed before pushing the hand away and getting to his feet. "Well, you fucking wrecked my costume."

"It was worth it." The man grinned from his place on Peter's bed. 

Peter smiled, "I'm going to take a shower." He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist.

"Want me to join you?" He asked, his smile turning lecherous.

"Already, Wade?"

"I can go all night."

Shaking his head, Peter kicked off the boots to his costume and kicked them into a corner before covering them with dirty laundry. He walked into the bathroom and ran the shower. The petroleum jelly would be a pain to get out but it was worth it.

The water was a welcome boon to his sore, overworked muscles. He stood there for a while, just letting it drum into his skull. His brain felt as sluggish and as used as his body did, which was an added comfort. He didn't want to think about the lines he had crossed in allowing the unpredictable merc in his bed. He didn't want to think about Nick Fury yelling at him about his sex life. He didn't want anyone yelling at him because of his sex life. Soap chased away the sweat, cum and jelly that clung to his body. When the hot water finally began to turn cold, he turned off the water with a heavy sigh. His body felt like a plucked string on a harp, still vibrating with the fallout of his orgasm.

Padding back into his room, Peter was not surprised that it was vacant. There was no proof that the merc had been there besides the lingering smell of sex and the rumpled comforter. He gathered his knapsack before sitting. He could hear it vibrating. Pulling it out, he flipped through messages from his study group and cursed himself for forgetting. Another from MJ informing him that she was bored.

'Sry. Was busy.' He texted before tossing the cell on the bed to get dressed. When finally he had found a clean pair of boxer briefs and a t-shirt, he settled back on the bed to relax. 'What r u up to? Got a hot date?' She had responded which made him smirk. 'Something like that.'

The phone started to vibrate and ring in his hands. He groaned as 'Blocked number' flashed on the screen. For a moment, he debated the wisdom of just ignoring SHIELD but when they called, it was usually important and the niggling voice in the back of his head prompted him to answer. 

"Spider-Man." Black Widow said in a low voice.

"Hi. Did you need something? Is there another attack on New York?"

"No. New York is quiet, for once." She said, "Listen, did you get a visit from Deadpool earlier?"

"Mmm…" He knew the woman could spot subterfuge from a mile away and it didn't help that Peter was terrible at telling lies. In the face of that, he bit back the urge to fib and said, "Maybe."

"He's a bad, bad man, Peter and it would make a lot of people very unhappy to find out that he had taken advantage of you."

Opening and closing his mouth for a moment, Peter found himself gobsmacked by her forwardness. He shouldn't have been surprised, but he chocked it up to a post sex haze. "Uh…"

She swore, "He got to you, didn't he?"

He jumped out of the bed and began pacing, "Just a second here. I am an adult and I'm capable of making my own decisions. I don't think it's any of SHIELD's business as to what I chose to do in my personal life."

"He's unstable at best. Incredibly volatile if the scene in the alley was any indication to what he's capable of. We just want to make sure that you know what you are getting into."

Peter laughed, "Right. This is so stupid. Since when does the infamous Black Widow concern herself with the business of mortals? It getting boring at the Avenger tower? Or did Nick Fury tell you to stick your nose where it doesn't belong?" He was angry and that made him brash. He bit his lip to keep from gasping in horror at his own lack of self preservation, knowing that Natasha Romanova had killed for less. 

"Parker, I'm just warning you because I am pretty confident that you haven't got a clue who Wade Wilson is."

"And you have no idea who I am." He ground out, leaning his knuckles into the wooden surface of his desk. "I am not defenseless."

"I know you aren't. But you are young and that makes you vulnerable in certain places." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, "I know you think you know what you are doing. Right now, it feels pretty damn good because it's new but I'm telling you that Wade Wilson is a very sick individual who is capable of anything and by that, I mean the worst possible anything you can think of. He will inevitably hurt you, Peter and I am just looking out for your best interests."

"Well, consider me warned." He said shortly, allowing his anger with her intrusion to shove down the regret that her words provoked. "Now is that all? I am sure you have more important things to be doing."

"Good night, Peter." The connection went dead and with a disgusted noise, he tossed the phone on the desk.

He sank onto his computer chair and ran his fingers through his damp hair. Remorse and trepidation washed over him. He groaned, "Oh fuck. What did I do?"


End file.
